The Letter
by mlgummer
Summary: What happens when Andy tries to hard to impress Miranda. One time story. Warning not a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Paring: established Miranda/Andy**  
**Prompts: This story was inspired by the song Waiting Here by Kelley Mooney**  
**Word Count: 1991**

**Summary: What happens when Andy works too hard to impress Miranda.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Devil Wears Prada, and I am not making any money off of the characters. I am just using them for some fun and great inspiration.**

**Warning: This is not a happy ending story.**

**A/N: This is none Beta like all my stories so any comments for improvement is greatly appreciated.**

Waiting Here

We used to lay, in bed for hours  
We'd laugh and talk  
You'd bring home flowers  
And then the cracks begin to show  
Who are you?  
I don't know  
Fall in the bed  
I try to rest  
Another day  
Another test  
I tried so hard  
I failed again  
I'm not good enough for you  
I guess  
Now I am waiting here for you to leave me  
You say I'm not that easy to take  
You make me feel small  
I don't think you care at all  
I don't think I can fake another day  
Your home from work  
Who will you be?  
Will you kiss or even see me?  
It's not the life  
I dreamed about  
Please let me go let me out  
Now I am waiting here for you to leave me  
You say I'm not that easy to take  
Well you make me feel so small  
Did you ever love me at all?  
I don't think I can take one more day  
I want more  
Unlock this door  
Let me live  
Let me go  
Please let me go  
Now I'm sick of waiting here for you to leave me  
Well, you are just to much to take  
So I'm packing up my years  
I'm going to leave you here  
I'm taking back my pride today  
Yea I'm packing up my things  
I'm going to spread my wings  
I'm taking back my life today  
Good-Bye for good  
Good-Bye Sweetheart  
I'm on my way

-Kelley Mooney

**_Here I sit at my desk, laptop open in front of me, blank screen, and the nasty cursor blinking at me. Even the computer is criticizing me. I look to the ceiling and close my eyes trying to starve off the tears that have been a constant threat lately. How did this ever happen? In the beginning it was all so different. Our love so strong, and our passion all-consuming. I thought for sure this was it, that you were the one. My soul mate._**

I never knew how much I enjoyed just lying in bed until you came along. It was always a waste of time in my mind, but with you it was nurturing our love for each other. The soft kisses, gentle caresses always pulled at my heart-strings.

The weekends the girls were at their Fathers were long days spent in bed, in front of the fireplace or on the huge lounger we had in the media room making love.

Nourishment those days consisted of fruit, crackers, cheese and wine. Finger foods, easy to feed to each other. Once in a while you would sneak in chocolate sauce, whip cream, and cherries and I would be the plate.

I hated small talk but it was so easy with you, even the quiet time between us flowed easily. Words of endearment and confessions of love never meant more to me and was never easier for me to confess.

I remember the first time you brought me flowers. I never expected that from you, but those things came so easy to you. A bouquet of Forget-me-nots. I was so shocked, someone had actually put thought into buying flowers. They were not the same old boring Roses or Carnations. God I despise Carnations. Every bundle after that was an adventure, and as you instructed me had meaning.

It was so easy laughing with you. Something I could only do with the girls, and you even managed to find my tickle spot.

**_She smiled easily._**

I remember you telling me how my "real" smile affected you. How it warmed your insides, but that was a long time ago.

Then you started coming home later and later every night, and when you did make it home there was never a kiss.

I know it because I was awake every single night, waiting for you.  
Every single time you crawled into our bed and never touched me I would cry myself to sleep. I guess you heard that. Maybe not.

You missed many family time with the girls. They felt it too. You had promised to treat them like your own. You turned out just like the others. Only on a rare occasion did I miss one of their productions.

I would go on planned vacations alone because something would come up. Something that was just too important to miss. What could have been more important than time alone between us. Even I did not do that before the retirement. I missed you so much those times. You left me a weeping, heartbroken mess. You had destroyed the Dragon Lady.

I feel like I need to stay quiet because it seems every time I say something it is the wrong thing. I have never felt so powerless or insecure. No one had ever been able to crush me before you. I touch you and you flinch as if my touch burns you. I remember the days you could not keep your hands off of me.

I think about the last time you had to leave town for a story. I was excited to spend some time away from New York with you. I had ideas of candles and champagne in a bubble bath with you and long hours of making love once again. You saw me packing and asked what I was doing. My heart broke in two hearing you chide me. Telling me you could get the story done faster without me distracting you. I did not want to push knowing this was your dream, writing. I wanted you to have it all.

Six days later when you returned home you did not even kiss me just walked up stairs and fell into bed. You did not even know I had slept in the guest bedroom that night.

You spent the next four days at the office "putting the story together" as you tried to explain.

You would think I had learned my lesson after the second time, but I thought this would be different. This time I was truly in love. I had never felt this way before. You released something within me. Your touch would set fire to me and your kiss left marks on me for hours afterward. My body would quiver every time your eyes scanned over me, and I was ready to do anything for you, for us. Something I never gave to my previous relationships.

**_The tears once again fell from her eyes._**

I once thought I was not good enough or young enough for you, but you insisted it was the other way around. I gave up everything for you. My position. My status. My job. I wanted to do that because you meant everything to me. We meant everything to me.

Now I feel as if I am giving up myself, and I am slowly dying inside.

Every night I waited for you in bed I wondered if it was the night you would never come home. If it was the night you would tell me you've had enough of me. Tired of me whining we never spend time together anymore. Tired of me constantly asking to go away together. Tired of my old body.

Our arguments have become more frequent.

You are the one not coming home so we can spend time together. Now when we have the house all to ourselves. The girls are in college and I sit here waiting for you.

We argue about you working all the time. You claim I do not want you to excel as a journalist. You claim that I still only think about myself.

Talks of us having more children curtailed years ago because you cannot take the time away from work. The house is too quiet.

Vacations stopped two years ago. Your response is always there will be time later after I have established myself.

I cannot smile anymore just nod.

I cannot love anymore just be.

I have been waiting up for you to come home. It is now three in the morning and I hear the front door close. I listen as you walk up the steps, and I hear the bedroom door open. I hope, God I live on hope. I open an eye and see the light from the hallway shine behind your shape. You are so beautiful I almost gasp. Yet once again you do not look my way, but walk straight to the bathroom.

I turn and the tears silently fall. I cannot risk you hearing me cry.

I hear you switch off the bathroom light and I feel the bed dip as you climb in. There is no touch, or kiss, all I can do is smell the lingering scent of your perfume, and my heart breaks even more.

When we committed ourselves to each other I had dreamed. Yes, the Ice Queen had dreamed of a love so pure nothing could harm it. I dreamed of a life with a partner who wanted the same thing as I. I dreamed of us as one.

Our children running through the house. Sleepless nights rocking a crying infant.

Vacations on the beach, watching the tides, kissing in the moon light, making love in the waves.

I dreamed of watching you accept awards, watching you write, and watch you search out a story. My life is happier sitting in a room watching you on your laptop than alone in this huge house.

Our arguments always end in me asking you if you want out and you tease me, chide me for being ridicules. Always asking me where that question is coming from.

I never thought anyone would be able to make Miranda Priestly feel so inadequate, but you have. Telling me I am high maintenance and you're tired of it. I love you more than life itself, what kind of feelings did you really have for me? Was it love?

I want my life, my job back. I want to be confident again. In control, and I will never let this happen to me again. I have learned my lesson and whatever it meant to you I hope you got it.

Just let me have my divorce. Why do you want to keep me around? It is obvious you are no longer attracted to me so why stay? Do you want to hurt me? Do you not want me to be me?

**_She stood at the counter with the phone in her hand, "Miranda they need you answer now, today. They cannot stall any longer. Do you want the job?"_**

I do not care about the townhouse. It is yours. There are too many unhappy memories. The twins will have their home to stay in during holiday breaks. As for me I have enough money to buy a place of my own in Paris big enough so the twins can go there too if they desire.

As it seems you have forgotten about them too. You have missed so much with them after they went to college they do not even bother to invite you to their productions anymore. Even they know.

**_"Yes, Irv. Tell Paris Runway I will be there on the next plane. And tell them I hope it is easier to find an assistant there than it was here in New York." The Ice Queen was back._**

Miranda Priestly Editor in Chief of Paris Runway. I like the sound of that.

**_Miranda looked inside the townhouse one last time. Tears fell down her pale face. She looked over at the table in the foyer. Laying on it the letter and her keys. She picked up her bag, turned, walked out on to the front steps and slowly closed the door. Sunglasses on, she picked up her face and strolled to the waiting car._**

The stunned woman sat at the little family table while large tears slid down her face. The letter crumpled in her trembling hand. "Oh my God I have lost her," she could barely whisper to herself.

**The End**


	2. The Letter: Three Years Later

Title: The Letter: Three years Later

Word Count: 1996

Rating: K/G

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

* * *

~~Three years after Miranda left~~

Andy sat at the small table staring at the crumpled piece of paper. She had tried to smooth out all the wrinkles. Every crease reminded her of how she failed Miranda, had let her down.

Nigel had tried to warn her when she first worked at Runway. "Let me know when your whole life goes up in smoke. That means it's time for a promotion." If only she had listened.

Miranda had given up everything for her, for the family, and how did Andy repay her? By pushing her away. Making the job more important than them.

The note was the last thing she had that touched Miranda. Andy closed her eyes as she saw the elegant fingers of Miranda caressing the expensive paper, and gliding the pen over it leaving the stinging words.

She wondered if Miranda had cried, if there was any hope left for the two of them.

Andy's only wish was that Miranda still lived on hope. Hope that someday they could be reunited.

Andy breathed in.

This was going to be her last chance. If this did not work she would never get her love back, and it would be her own fault.

Andy took a deep breath, closing her eyes as the tears began to fall.

* * *

She remembered the last time she had seen Miranda. She was leaving town to do a story for the New Yorker. She would be gone for three days.

The night before the trip she got home very late, and was tired to the bone.

When she walked into their bedroom Miranda was already sound asleep.

Andy remembered watching the slow rise and fall of Miranda's chest.

The woman was so beautiful, and Andy's arms ached to hold her.

Andy thought she had wakened Miranda when she heard a hiccup then saw Miranda's beautiful hands grab the pillow her head was lying on. Her silver hair had shimmered in the moonlight that showed through the window, and a slight sigh had escaped from Miranda's lips.

Andy had been so full of love that night.

Dam it, she was still full of love, love for only one person, and that person was Miranda Priestly.

She had not wanted to disturb Miranda so she quietly tiptoed into the bathroom showered and silently slid into bed.

When she woke the next morning Miranda was gone.

Andy had wakened late, rushed to get out of the house, and left to catch her plane.

She never had time to tell Miranda this was going to be her last trip, that she could not do it anymore, that she could not be away from her one true love one more night.

Andy's heart ached every night she was away, and she could never get any sleep. That was why she was always so tired when she got home.

She needed to be with Miranda. She needed to be near her. She needed to be able to make love to her every night.

She had worked so hard to make Miranda proud of her but she just could not do it anymore.

She wanted to be with her family. She wanted to go to the twins productions. She wanted to have the baby(s) her and Miranda had talked about so often.

Miranda had retired so they could spend more time together, and yet they hardly ever saw each other.

Miranda had wanted to go with Andy that last time, but Andy had cut that down.

She would be on the run every day she was gone, and what would Miranda do? Sit around in the hotel room by herself? That would have been senseless. If only she had realized that the only thing Miranda wanted was to be close to her.

* * *

The minute Andy had gotten over the shock that Miranda was gone she called Miranda's phone only to have it go to voicemail immediately.

She freaked out and called over and over again until Miranda's voicemail was full.

Her messages were scattered, pleading, and emotional. She did not know what to say, or what it would take to get Miranda back, but she was trying everything.

God knew she had to try.

She could not live without the woman that had turned her life upside down. The woman who made every minute of her life worth living. Without Miranda in her life there was no reason, no life, nothing.

Andy had no idea if Miranda had listen to the voicemails but if she did she never erased any of them, because every time since then when Andy would call the phone number the voicemail box would be full.

If truth be told had Miranda listened to any of the voicemails she probably would not have understood them as Andy was crying hysterically in most of them.

Andy had also txt Miranda more times than she could count. Some days it seemed she txt until her fingers were sore and stiff.

Miranda never answered her.

* * *

Two days after Miranda left Andy was served with divorce papers at the townhouse.

She had been so distraught over Miranda leaving she had not left the house. She laid on the couch day after day refusing to lay in the bed she had shared with Miranda, until her love returned.

Andy nearly died that day. She took the envelope from the currier and pulled out the papers slowly reading them. As the true meaning of the papers became clear to Andy she fell into a state of shock falling to the floor as the legal papers floated around her falling to the floor.

This is how Nigel found her that night, in a heap on the floor surrounded by the pages of the document.

He had made it his job to check on Andy every night after he had found out what Miranda had done.

Six had become a blubbering mess and he was not about to let anything else happen to her.

He knew the two women belonged with each other. He also knew how vulnerable the two were to each other. He would do anything to help the two get back together.

The delivery had been a surprise to everyone, him, even the twins.

He had called Miranda and she was willing to talk with him about anything but Andréa.

Every time he would bring up her name, or anything to do with their life together Miranda would hang up on him, and not answer any of his calls for the rest of the day.

Andy had refused to sign the papers. She had refused to let their marriage end.

* * *

Luckily for Andy the girls were a little more receptive to her calls and txt.

They took her calls not knowing what their Mother had done.

They knew their Mother loved Andy with her entire being, but they also knew feelings between the two women had been strained.

They both still loved Andy as their Mom, and they had warned her she needed to slow down, that their Mother was not happy.

It pissed them off that their Mother had not voiced to Andy how she was feeling, but that was their Mother.

The woman had not wanted to interfere with Andy's career. She had wanted to give Andy the freedom to soar as a journalist, and Andy had done just that. Flew far away from the one thing that mattered, Miranda.

Andy had discussed with the girls many times on what she would have to do to win Miranda back, and she had tried a few to no avail.

The girls even tried to tell their Mother about Andy's decision. They tried to tell her how Andy had reacted to the divorce papers, but Miranda would shut down the second anything related to Andy was brought up, and she would stay that way for days.

* * *

Andy would have to plan and plan well.

Miranda would not take to big expensive gifts. It would take the small, personal, heartfelt gifts like the ones Andy have given her during their courtship and first years of marriage.

The offerings would have to be nameless as Miranda surely would not accept anything from Andy.

The finishing touch would come at Paris Runway's Gala at the start of Paris Fashion Week.

Andy had managed to secure an invitation as a press agent for the New Yorker without having her name tied to it.

Andy had to think and the only place she would be able to feel Miranda and know how to woo her would be at the townhouse.

* * *

Andy's hand shook as she slid the gold key into the hole and turned it. Her hand laid on the knob, it was cold to the touch, like her life was. As she turned the knob crystal tears dropped from the deep brown eyes.

She had not been in the townhouse in over two years.

She had not been able to stay there.

Without Miranda it was just one big empty box.

She knew the girls had spent short visits to the townhouse over the years but after those last few days it was no longer home to her.

Andy walked through the house without a sound. It felt like a tomb, every step she took echoed off the walls.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered, it felt so cold.

She turned and took in the sight before her. The flowers were missing, but everything else looked like it had frozen in time.

There were paintings Miranda had purchased before Andy, and there were the ones they had acquired together. Miranda loved new blood, and Andy had the knack to sniff them out.

She walked across the foyer and into the living room. A place were the family had spent many happy times before…

Tears began to sting her eyes once again.

Her fingers caressed the family pictures that littered every wall and ledge in the residence.

Miranda had taken none with her, and the girls had not changed anything in the long two years.

Andy's mind was running wild as memories of the time spent with Miranda here came back to her.

She had not realized she had walked up the three fights of steps that lead to their bedroom, and soon found herself standing in the doorway.

As her eyes ran over the huge bed that sat in the center of the room she imagined Miranda lying there.

Thin silk scarves hung from the four post and bars that framed the bed. Memories of nights full of love and ecstasy reared their ugly head while Andy sobbed.

She rubbed the crystal drops from her cheeks knowing she had to hurry and get what she had come for then get out of the place before she broke down completely.

Her eyes scanned the room and settled on the antique dresser Miranda and her found one weekend while driving home from the Hamptons'.

Andy had begged Miranda senselessly when they drove by it on the way out to their house to stop.

Andy had not been antique shopping since the summer before with her Mother, and she wanted Miranda to experience with her the rush of finding that one beautiful piece.

On the way home Miranda surprised Andréa and stopped.

They both spotted the dresser at the same time and purchased it immediately.

Miranda had found she rather enjoyed the antique items just like she adored vintage couture.

Andy pulled on the brass handle and slowly pulled the drawer open.

There it laid just as she had left it.

It was to be a surprise for Miranda when Andy returned from her last assignment.

She gently picked it up and placed it in the bag she had brought with her.

Quickly she turned, ran down the stairs, and left the building.

Andy stopped and once again looked at the door and vowed to never return unless she had Miranda on her arm.


	3. The Letter: Chapter 3

Title: The Letter: Three years Later

Word Count: 1316

Rating: K/G

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

_**Warning I do not speak let alone write the French language so everything here is from an interpretation page. So forgive me if I massacred the beautiful language. **_

* * *

Miranda stood at her desk with a broad smile on her lips.

The paper was laid out covering the other periodicals laying there.

Within one year Paris Runway had topped all other fashion magazines in Europe, and now it even out sold American Runway.

Miranda was sentimental that her baby was now second in the world but American Runway had not been hers' for a long time.

Paris Runway was now her adopted child.

She smirked.

The paper talked as if this was a big surprise.

She was The "Miranda Priestly" after all.

After the announcement was made she was taking over Paris Runway models began moving to Paris and no recruitment was need for designers or photographers. They came begging for Miranda to use them.

Unfortunately for the models Miranda's taste for the very skinny ones had disintegrated over the years she was away from the fashion industry. She favored size two and the covers and showcase pieces were worn by size four models.

The Designers all had to adjust their pieces if they wanted to be showcased in Paris Runway.

* * *

Miranda looked up as she noted activity in the outer office.

"Emily?" Miranda called out in her signature, haunted, muted voice.

Yes, even Emily transferred to Paris after hearing her old boss had taken over as Editor in Chief. Someone who knew Miranda needed to be on hand to take care of her.

Emily turned, her red hair swinging with the move. The look on her face was a mixture of fear and apprehension.

The man who was with her looked up at the woman the voice came from. He was stunned at the attractive woman with the tiny waist and shimmering white hair. He noted her long fingers caressing the belt around her waist and a finger from the other hand glide over her lower lip. It was enough to make any hot blooded man sigh.

Emily quickly went to Miranda, "Yes Miranda."

Miranda rolled her eyes, "Does there have to be so much unneeded activity out there?"

Emily took a deep breath, "No Miranda."

Just then the delivery man walked in the office. "Excusez-moi, mais êtes-vous Miranda Priestley? Oui?" ("Excuse me but you are Miranda Priestly? Yes?")

Emily gasped, and Miranda eyed the man suspiciously.

"Je dois livré ceci personnellement pour vous" (I am to deliver this personally to you.)

"Miranda, I am sorry. I told him you would not want these…these weeds in here."

Miranda looked at the vase and flowers in the man's hands.

"Actually Emily these are not weeds. It is heather. It grew around my home in England."

Miranda fingered the purple flowers that surrounded one lone white one.

Emily humphed and turned quickly pushing the man out of Miranda's office.

"OK, vous l'avez livré, maintenant partez"(OK you have delivered it now leave.)

The man shrugged his shoulders, turned to leave, but then came back, "J'ai oublié la carte qui va avec" (I forgot the card that goes with it.)

Emily grabbed it from him and swiftly took it to Miranda.

"Uhm Miranda a card. It goes with the… the heather."

Miranda accepted the card from Emily and turned it over in her hands.

The paper was very heavy, expensive, but tasteful.

"That's all."

Emily looked at the card hoping to find out who had sent this very unusual gift.

Miranda glared at Emily.

She jumped and then left Miranda with the mystery gift. Why Miranda allowed the weeds to stay in her office Emily had no idea, but then Miranda was…well Miranda.

Miranda closed her eyes and took in the fragrant flowers. England had not been the only place to grow heather. Andréa had insisted on planting the shrubs around their back yard. Miranda shivered and frowned. No matter how long or how far away she was from her, Miranda could never get the woman off her mind. She was mad at herself for remembering a warm, loving time between herself and …"

Emily caught a glimpse of Miranda as her eyes grew dark, and sad.

Miranda flipped open the card and read: you have been in solitude for far too long, let the white heather bring you much good luck.

Miranda flipped it over…nothing. No signature. The script was in elegant hand, a woman's, but none she recognized.

"Emily."

"Yes, Miranda?"

"Who are these from?"

"Uhm does the card not say?"

Miranda took a deep breath, "If the card had said would I be asking you?"

"No Miranda."

"Find out who these came from."

"Yes Miranda."

Emily escaped the office and immediately called security in the front lobby, "Le livreur qui est venu avec des fleurs pour Miranda, ne le laissez pas partir." (the delivery man that came up here with flowers for Miranda do not let him leave.)

Miranda stood tapping the edge of the card on her lower lip. Who would be wishing her good luck, and just what did she need good luck for? She was Miranda Priestly. She did not need luck. She made her own way.

Emily walked into the office evidently out of breath. "Miranda, sorry, the delivery man…I did not catch him."

Miranda glared at her second in charge, than smiled.

"What is the name of the florist on the card? I will call them, track down the person who bought them, and had them delivered."

Miranda turned back to the flowers fingering them gently and inhaling the amazing aroma once again.

"There is no florist name."

Emily looked shocked at Miranda.

"A mystery. Someone seems to think it is fun to play with me."

Emily snickered, "Play maybe, but no matter how you look at it, you Miranda have a secret admirer."

Miranda eyed the young woman, "You are lucky I now consider you an equal, but yes I guess so."

Miranda's mind began to wander. A secret admirer. How silly. She was too old to play those kind of games. She smiled. It would be nice to have a warm body cuddled up to her again. It had been over two years since this feeling entered her mind. Her eyes closed, and she went to the last time Andréa and she had been together. The feel of soft lips, smooth skin, and hard nipples pressed against her body made Miranda tremble.

Emily noticed the change in Miranda's presence.

"Miranda? Is everything OK?"

Miranda opened her eyes and shook her head, "Take these away. Get rid of them. I do not want to see them again!"

Emily jumped. She grabbed the vase, turned, and left. She may be Miranda's right hand, but she also respected the woman enough to remember Miranda was in charge.

Miranda walked around behind her desk and sat. She turned the chair, and looked out over the Paris sky line.

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

She missed Andréa more than ever.

All this success, just like at American Runway. None of it was worth anything without Andréa to enjoy it with her.

The tears slowly fell.

She was tired.

She had been working night and day to bring Paris Runway to the top.

She could not remember the last time she had slept in her bed. Lately she found herself falling asleep on the couch in her study.

If Miranda would be true full to herself she did not want to fall asleep in her bed.

It was big, too big.

It was cold. You would think the Ice Queen would not mind a cold place to rest.

It was missing Andréa.

Working on the magazine had kept thoughts of Andréa at bay for a while but it could not keep the memories away forever.

Emily peered into Miranda's office. It pained the Brit to see Miranda like this.


	4. The Letter: Chapter 4

Title: The Letter: Chapter Four

Word Count: 1237

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

_**Thanks for everyone who is encouraging me to continue. I know it has been a while since I updated. I have the ending I just need to figure out how to get there. :)**_

_**Warning I do not speak let alone write the French language so everything here is from an interpretation page. So forgive me if I massacred the beautiful language. Thank you Lactrice assiude. :)**_

* * *

~About a week later~

After a long day at work Miranda stepped from her car, and as she looked up there sitting in front of her door a pot of flowers.

Miranda slowly stepped toward the pot, and as she bent down to pick it up she noted a card propped up behind it.

Miranda picked up the pot, wrapped an arm around it wedging the card between her chest and the pot as if protecting it.

She let herself in her house and upon entering the kitchen gently placed the pot on the tiny table.

She clutched the card in her hand and sat.

The card she knew was the same paper as the one that had come with the heather that had been delivered to her at Runway.

Miranda's mind was a blank, unable to think, or grasp who it could be from, or the meaning of it all.

Miranda took in the beauty of the flowers that arose from the simple oval ceramic white pot.

In the middle stood a simple slender stalk with a curve of deep blue orchids.

Miranda ran a single finger up the stalk and over the delicate petals of the flower. Her eyes roamed to the card as it lay on the table beckoning her to pick it up, and read it.

She took a deep breath and touched it. Her fingers tingled, and she sighed. This was ridiculous, who was she fooling? Secret admirer? Foolishness.

* * *

Miranda got up and took her bag to the bedroom.

She looked around.

"Now what do I do?"

Miranda was lost.

She wandered to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and began to remove her clothes.

Maybe a shower would help. Help her think.

* * *

Miranda let the hot water run down over her body and she shivered. She poured the luxurious body wash into a hand and lathered her body.

Her body tensed as fingers moved over every inch of her skin, and her mind wandered to a time when she rarely bathed alone.

Early in their relationship Miranda and Andréa seldom found themselves alone in the bath or shower.

They may have started alone but neither could stay away from the other especially when they knew the other was naked. Bathing each other was a great step into love making for the two.

Before long Miranda's hands had skimmed over her breast, down her abdomen, and headed for the triangle of dark hair.

Miranda's eyes jerked open, and she slammed her hand against the wall.

She was not going to go there. She had to stop thinking about Andréa in that way. They were over.

Miranda had severed everything between them.

Everything that is except insisting on Andréa signing the divorce papers. Yes, she had Andréa served, but when her lawyer informed her they had never been returned Miranda never pursued it further. If Andréa wished not to sign them then fine. Miranda never intended to marry ever again so why fight it?

* * *

Miranda felt the warm tears fall, and she wrapped her arms around her waist, shivering.

Who was she kidding?

The reason she never pushed for it was hope.

Miranda continued to live for it, but in order for anything to happen she would have to open herself up once again.

Would she be able to, could she risk trusting anyone again?

Deep brown eyes flashed into her mind, long silky brown hair, and soft full lips. It would always be Andréa.

* * *

~*~Two days later~*~

As Miranda left her house she turned her head and took in the sight of the flowers, and the unopened card lying on her table.

They were still there.

They had not disappeared.

Miranda shook her head and left.

* * *

The elevator doors slid open and Miranda marched out, head held high, ready to start the day.

Alexandrie (Miranda's assistant) met her in the outer office.

"Miranda, ceci/cela est arrivé pour vous"(Miranda, this came for you.)

The tall dark haired girl laid a shoe box in Miranda's arms.

Lying on top of the box a card, the same paper as the ones that came before it. The writing, the same beautiful woman's script.

Miranda had forgotten all the instructions she had for Alexandrie that morning and just walked into her office.

As she laid the box on her desk the card slipped off and started to fall to the floor.

Miranda managed to catch it before it landed.

The card tickled her hand, and a warmth ran through her body. Feelings long ago buried began to resurface.

Miranda threw the card on her desk and called out to Alexandrie. "Je veux parler à Emily dès/aussitôt qu'elle arrive" (I want to talk to Emily as soon as she gets in.)

* * *

The scene in front of Emily as she walked into Miranda's office was of the Editor in Chief seated in her chair, hands caressing her abdomen, staring at the box and card sitting on her desk.

As Emily looked up from the box she caught Miranda staring at her.

"I haven't opened it."

Emily arched an eyebrow.

"Two days ago flowers showed up in front of my door at home."

Emily opened her mouth to speak but Miranda interrupted her.

"The flowers and the card is still on my table at home."

"Did the card say who they were from?"

Miranda glared at the young woman, "I never read it."

"Bollocks, Miranda, why haven't you?"

Miranda stared at the red headed English woman.

"I need to find out who is doing this to me. It has to stop! I cannot be bothered with this madness."

Miranda once again eyed the box as if it was going to bite her.

What was she afraid of? That the gift and the card would make her happy? Was she terrified that someone once again found her attractive enough to woo her? Was she scared that once again her heart would be broken?

Emily fingered the card and the top of the box it was laying on. "Do you want me to open it?"

Miranda hissed and glared at Emily.

"It would help to know what is inside of it. Help to figure out who is behind all of this." Emily grinned. "Who your secret admirer is."

Miranda's eyes grew dark, and in a very low growl, "Emily."

Emily's grin grew bigger and she held her hands up in defeat. "OK, OK, I surrender."

Miranda's expression did not change. "Get it out of here."

Emily giggled and picked up the box, turning she exited Miranda's office.

* * *

Once in her own office Emily picked up her phone and dialed. "Nigel."

"Emily! Dear girl what has you calling me during the busiest time of the year for you?"

Emily laughed, "You are not going to believe this!" and she began to relate to Nigel the events of the last two weeks.

Nigel sat in silence as he listened to Emily. "You say the cards were written by a woman?"

Emily shrugged her shoulders, "Miranda seems to think so. As for me I cannot tell one way or the other."

"Emily, I have to go. Bye." And the phone went dead.

Nigel sat in his chair, his hand skimmed up over his face and rubbed his bald head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Picking up his phone he dialed.

"Nigel?"

"Six."


	5. The Letter: Chapter 5

Title: The Letter: Chapter Four

Word Count: 2172

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

_**Thanks for everyone who is encouraging me to continue. I know it has been a while since I updated. I have enjoyed all the comments and for those of you who have a vested interest in getting these two ladies together I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**_

"Nigel! It is so nice to hear from you. What's up?"

"It's you. is it not?"

"Uhmm, excuse me?"

"You heard me. It is you. You are the one sending Miranda these little gifts?"

The phone was silent except for the deep intake of breath from Andy.

"Does she know they are from me?"

Nigel sighed and rubbed his hand over his bald head. "I don't know Six. She knows they are from a woman, but she has only read the first card. The last two she has refused to look at she would not even look in the box. And, she had Emily throw the Heather out."

Andy was silent.

"Six, did you really think this would work?"

It was still silent.

"Six?"

There was a sniffle.

"Six."

"Oh Nigel, please you have to get her to read the cards. Nigel, please this is my last chance. I have to get her back. I cannot live without her anymore."

Nigel sighed, how did she always mange to get him to help?

"OK Six, I will see what I can do."

"Thank you Nigel."

Nigel hung up the phone. Now what? He shook his head.

If Miranda knew the cards were from Six she would burn it all.

Never in the last three years has she allowed anyone to talk or discuss her former wife.

Nigel knocked on the door frame that lead to Miranda's office.

Inside he observed the famous silver hair bent over her desk concentrating on a spread sheet.

"Alexandrie, Je crois que je vous ai demandé de ne pas me déranger ." (I believe I instructed you not to disturb me.)

Nigel grinned, and he knocked again.

"Alexandrie." The Editor hissed, looking up.

Nigel's grin grew even bigger.

Miranda smirked. "I also informed her I did wish to speak with anyone."

Nigel feigned disappointment as the petite woman stood and strolled over to her longtime friend.

Miranda sighed, "Nigel" as he hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"Nigel, what brings you to Paris so early? Trying to get the jump on everyone else?"

Nigel pulled away and held Miranda's shoulders in his hands and grinned widely.

"Can I not come visit my friend?"

"Oui, but I can tell from that look on your face that is not why you are here."

Miranda eyed her friend closely.

"Emily called you and told you about the gifts and cards."

Miranda twisted herself out of Nigel's arms.

"Please, have a seat." Miranda waved a hand at the overstuffed chairs situated on the other side of her office.

Nigel inhaled deeply and ran his hand over his head and face, then followed Miranda to the chairs and settled himself in.

"I needed to make sure you were OK. I do not want you getting hurt again."

Miranda ran her eyes over Nigel's face studying him intently.

"As much as Emily would like to think, I do not have a secret admirer. I am much too old to be playing silly games like that."

Nigel sighed and shook his head.

"Old, you are not, and what is wrong with having a secret admirer? It might be fun playing the game. Who knows something wonderful might come from it."

Miranda glared. "Something wonderful? You mean like another failed marriage? Hump!"

"Your last marriage did not fail. You are still married, remember Six never signed…"

Miranda abruptly stood up, and shoot fire toward Nigel. "You do not need to remind me I am still married. I am fully aware that An…" She stopped mid-sentence, marched back to her desk, and sat. "I am very busy Nigel. Maybe we can arrange a dinner together where we can discuss more pleasant ideas."

Nigel rested his arms on the chair and sat back. "Do I need to make arrangements with your assistant?"

"It would be a good idea I am a very busy person, but do not hope for a date in the near future. That's all."

Nigel closed his eyes for a short second then stood up. He walked over to the Dragon Lady, laid his hands back on her shoulders, and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Take a chance Miranda, you deserve to be happy."

Then he left, leaving Miranda to ponder their conversation.

Nigel found himself knocking on yet another doorframe.

This time he was greeted by a tiny young English redhead who jumped out of her chair and ran to him enclosing him in a tight embrace.

Nigel began coughing and wheezing. "Girl you are squeezing me to death, what has gotten into you?"

Emily loosened her grip and laughed.

Nigel smiled back at the young woman. "Marriage certainty agrees with you."

"Serena has been the best thing to ever happen to me, not to mention little Victoria."

Nigel smiled sweetly.

Emily had sure come a long way since her days at Runway when she worshiped Miranda.

Her eyes were bright and her entire being just glowed.

He looked around the office and scanned the multitude of pictures of her, the long legged Brazilian beauty, and a tiny curly haired toddler.

Emily followed Nigel's gaze. "She is the love of our lives."

Nigel nodded, "I can see that. I am very happy for you."

Emily linked an arm with Nigel and led him over to a couch to sit.

"I just came from seeing Miranda."

Before Nigel could continue Emily jumped up, "You have got to see what was in the box Nigel."

She walked over to a closet in the room, opened the door, and pulled out a shoe box. Lifting off the top and placing it under the box she walked back over to Nigel.

"That is the box that was left here for Miranda?"

Emily nodded.

"Do you think it was a good idea to open it?"

"After you see what is inside you will agree it was a great idea."

Emily handed the opened box to Nigel.

As he looked inside his eyes grew wide.

Inside were a pair of shoes.

He lifted one out and turned it over and over in his hand. He could not quite wrap his head around it but it was a glass slipper, or what looked like a glass slipper. He grinned what hot blood girl would not want a pair of glass slippers? Only they were not made out of glass but a plastic? No. Leather? No.

"Do you know who made these?"

Emily nodded. She handed over the card. He eyed Emily questioningly.

"Oh Nigel you expect me not to open it?"

On the card written in an elegant script read:

Miranda,

The glass slipper is not only the way in which the prince finds Cinderella, but also because their permanence offers an alternative to the seemingly superficial moral. Although the story of Cinderella may seem to be one in which physical beauty and material goods are the only paths to true happiness, like the happiness that comes from marrying a prince that is not the case. The prince does not fall in love with Cinderella for her display of transient physical beauty and riches, but for the lasting good nature symbolized in the glass slippers. The slipper is an appropriate way for the prince to find his princess because it, through its parallel with Cinderella's character, celebrates an unbreakable internal beauty along with a love that will never disappear. I have found my everlasting love.

Along with the note was a business card with just one word on it: LaBEAULIEU

Nigel turned the business card over n his hand, then looked up at Emily. "Do I have to ask?"

Emily grinned widely, "She is a new designer. She is fifty years old and has been trying to break into the market for the last five years." Emily wiggled her eyes. "You think she is Miranda's secret admirer?"

Nigel looked up at Emily and slowly shook his head.

Emily's mouth dropped open, "You know! You know who it is?"

Nigel nodded.

"Who? How?" Then she shrieked, "No! Bloody Hell!"

"She has asked for our help."

Emily glared, "Bloody Hell I won't! After what she did to Miranda. How could you?"

Nigel smirked, "So you still have a crush on her?"

Emily turned a bright red, "She is a good friend. Bullocks Nigel she is Victoria's Godmother. We are business partners."

Nigel took a deep breath. "Emily, she was crying. I couldn't say no. You know how much they love each other."

"Loved each other you mean."

"No. They love each other more than either of us will understand."

Emily frowned, "So what are we supposed to do?"

"Get her to look in this box and read the cards the last two cards.

Emily closed her eyes and sighed.

Emily stood tall and steady as she waited for the door to be opened for her. Tucked safely under her arm the box and card.

As the door came open Emily started to shake, but knew she had to keep her nerve…for Miranda…for everyone.

"Emily?" Miranda scanned the young woman standing in front of her and her eyes landed on the box.

"I thought I told you to get rid of that?"

Emily barged her way into the home. "Yes thank you Miranda I would love to come in."

Miranda turned and closed the door behind her. She glared at Emily.

"So where is the flowers you got the other day?" Emily eyed Miranda. She began walking in and out of rooms in the house.

"I see you have no respect for another's personal home or life?" Miranda hissed.

Emily shook her head, "Once you accepted me as your friend, no."

Emily walked into the kitchen spotting the single orchid sitting on the counter. The card lying beside it as Miranda had left it.

"As your friend I am more concerned for your happiness than I am about invading your so called personal space."

If this had been five years ago Miranda would have burned the Brit's body then blacklist her with any fashion organization in the world.

Now, Miranda knew Emily was only trying to look out for her.

Emily fingered the long slim stem of the orchid and stared at the blue flowers sitting so elegantly on the stem.

"It is just like you."

She picked up the card and turned toward Miranda. "You will open this and read it then you will open the box and read the card."

Emily's knees were shaking and she was starting to sweat. God help her she better still have her job after this or she was going to track that miserable example of an assistant down and…

Miranda just stared at Emily, then stuck out her hand, palm up.

Emily laid the card from the orchids into Miranda's hand.

Miranda curled her fingers around the card and jerked her hand back. She slowly made her way over to a chair and sat. Her hands shook as she opened the card and began to read.

Miranda,

An orchid is a symbol of rare and delicate beauty. The straight line of the stem represents perfection, and the curvy form of the flowers are like the delicate curves of a woman's body. You are the orchid. A rare, perfect, and delicate beauty, with curves that would ignite a fire in any hot blooded human. Blue orchids are very rare just like you.

Miranda's eyes shot up. "You? You sent these to me?"

Emily had been watching Miranda read the card. She saw Miranda's hands shaking. She could see Miranda's eye watering.

Emily squeaked, "Bloody Hell? Me? No! No, Miranda. What makes you think I sent these?"

Miranda handed Emily the card.

Emily eyed Miranda questioningly.

"Oh for God sakes Emily read it. You just said it was just like me, the flower."

Emily read over the card and then began to laugh. She was laughing so hard tears were falling down her cheeks.

"I fail to see what is so funny about this." Miranda stood up and began to walk away.

"Miranda, wait." Emily hurried over to her good friend and place a hand on her arm. "Yes I said it was just like you. God Miranda I had a crush on you for years, of course I thought the flower was just like you, but no it was not me. Now open the box and read the card."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

Emily hugged Miranda, "Because it is time."

Miranda rolled her eyes at the petite woman and returned to the kitchen.

She ran her fingers over the box caressing it. Slowly she removed the lid and lifted out the amazing shoes.

"Read the card Miranda."

Miranda glared at Emily, and Emily smiled back.

"You should check out the designer whose name is on the business card. I have a feeling you will like her designs."

Emily turned and walked to the front door opening it, but before she left she turned smiling, "remember what I said Miranda." Then she left.


	6. The Letter: Chapter 6

Title: The Letter: Chapter six

Word Count: 1427

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

_**Thanks for everyone who is encouraging me to continue. I am glad people are enjoying the new Emily. Now maybe a little twist in the story?**_

* * *

Miranda sneered at Emily as she left. "Some nerve that girl telling her what she should do."

She looked at the orchid sitting on the counter in the kitchen remembering what the card said.

"The curvy form of the flowers are like the delicate curves of a woman's body", and all she could think of were the curves on one brown eyed woman.

Andréa had curves Miranda had fallen in love with the first time they met.

Even under the horrendous clothes Andréa had on Miranda could see the firm breast and striking outline of full hips, not to mention the long, long legs.

Miranda's mind wandered to the last time they had made love before she shook her head.

She looked at the business card in her hand and turned it over, nothing.

"So I will like her designs? We'll see."

Miranda pulled the shoes out of the box.

They were beautiful.

She slipped them on.

They fit like a second skin. They fit better than her Louboutins.

Who knew, maybe she would like the designer.

In the box was a slip of paper with information on this LaBEAULIEU, and in Emily's handwriting was an address, date, and time.

Miranda glared, how Emily dare make an appointment for her without asking first.

Also on the paper with the short bio on LaBEAULIEU was a note from Emily. "I knew you wouldn't so I did. Go!"

* * *

Miranda found herself standing in front of a small shop in the Galerie Vivienne. She gazed at the small assortment of shoes, bags, and gowns in the small window. She was impressed.

The lines in the gowns flowed effortlessly. The bags and shoes unusual.

Miranda's finger caressed her lower lip, and she smiled. LaBEAULIEU may not be haute couture now but in a year it would be.

As Miranda placed her hand on the door it opened before her. Standing in front of her a tall, slim, long grey and white haired lady with a huge smile on her face.

"Miranda, I have been waiting for you." The woman fanned out her arm inviting Miranda into the store.

In person Miranda was much more beautiful than her pictures proved.

How Noémi was lucky enough to produce a dress for the famous Fashion Editor she did not know. Miranda's wife did say the Editor relished assisting a new designer in coming out, and this was her lucky day.

Too bad Miranda was married, Noémi would have enjoyed playing with her.

Miranda acknowledged the woman with a bow of her head.

The woman began walking, "Please follow me. I am so excited to show you the sketches of your dress."

Miranda stopped abruptly, "My dress?"

The woman turned around smiling, "Yes, it will be my first couture. I have put all my money into this and to have you wear my first is a dream come true."

Miranda just stood on the spot. She was not going to be a guinea pig for this designer want to be. "I do not recall ordering a dress from you."

"Oh you didn't your friend did."

"My friend?"

The woman winked, "Yes, they said it would take a bit of convincing to get you to agree to it. Now come I know your time is precious."

Miranda reluctantly followed the woman to the back of the store. She was interested in seeing what was so special about this woman's designs.

The woman turned, excuse me I did not even introduce myself. "Noémi Beaulieu, and this is my shop."

The woman began walking around Miranda, pen and pad in her hand.

"Your friend was right you are very beautiful. Your pictures do not do you justice. Your toned legs, small waist, high cheek bones, and silver hair." The woman winked at Miranda.

Miranda was appalled, was this woman flirting with her? "I beg your pardon?"

The woman reached out with a finger and moved Miranda's bangs further off her face. "Your eyes, amazing blue eyes. Your hair was covering one up."

Miranda did not know what to do, what to say.

No one dared to touch her without permission, no one except Andréa ever got away with that.

Miranda took a deep breath in.

Noémi lowered her eyes. "Sorry about that, it was instinct. You should not let anything cover up those beautiful eyes."

Miranda shivered, she was flirting.

Noémi turned and reached for some papers at the end of the table and spread them out.

"Please take a look, I have the material I want to use right here. I did not start cutting the dress even though I had your measurements until I knew you would be happy with it."

Noémi stepped to the side and reached for a bolt of material while Miranda scanned the sketches.

Miranda hummed, and a smile broke out on her face. The sketches were simple, but incredible. She had never seen anything like it before. Her fingers caressed the lines on the sketches. How did the woman know this style would look good on her she had never meet Miranda.

Noémi rolled out the material, and Miranda gasped. It was stunning.

"I am glad you like it. I know the sketch is simple and familiar, but paired with this material and placed on your body it will be a master piece."

Miranda nodded, then jerked her head up. "You said my friend told you about me?"

Noémi nodded. "They were very explicit about what they wanted. I do not know how they found me but this is will be a pleasure to do for you."

"You said my pictures did not do me justice. My friend showed you pictures?"

"Oh no, but they described you perfectly, and I have seen many pictures of you in newspapers and magazines."

"Who was this friend?"

The woman smiled sweetly, "I have been sworn to secrecy. Do you like the sketches and the material? They go very well with the shoes do you not think?"

Miranda glared at the designer, but nodded. "They are very beautiful. You made the shoes too?"

Noémi nodded. "Oh do not worry they are one of a kind. I promised not to make another pair."

"They fit me flawlessly. How did you do that?"

"Trade secret." Noémi laughed.

"Amusing." Miranda stated.

"I would get to work on the dress immediately. We should only need one fitting. Shall we say at the end of the week? I promised to have it finished for the ball for the end of Paris Fashion Week."

Even though Miranda knew she would be crazy not to wear it at the ball it infuriated her that the women expected it of her. She glared at the woman.

Noémi frowned, "I'm sorry. They said it had to be done for the ball. That you needed a new designer to wear. Is this not true?"

Miranda's face softened, "No, I mean yes. I will wear it to the ball."

Noémi's face lit up. "Merci. You do not know how much this means to me."

* * *

Miranda sat in deep thought as the car slowly made its way to the office.

My friend? Who could be my friend? Nigel and Emily were her only friends. Well, Serena too, but neither of them knew her that well. And they would never do this. Neither of them have ever been able to sniff out a new designer like that. The only person she knew who could do that was, Andréa.

Miranda tried to ebb the flow of a tear but was unsuccessful.

Her Andréa.

Her name seemed to be coming up a lot the last few weeks, and Miranda could not stop thinking about her.

She caressed her wedding and engagement rings with her finger and thumb from her right hand. Rotating it around her finger she remembered the words engraved inside of it.

"Love you now, tomorrow, and forever."

She had never been able to remove her rings from her finger. She had promised Andréa she would never do that.

Another tear fell.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back on the soft leather.

Her Andréa, Miranda missed her so much.

She could not remember how she felt or even how she smelled and it was ripping at her heart.

What had she done by walking away? She had ruined the best thing to ever happen to her besides the girls.

The girls, she knew Andréa had stayed in touch with them. They had tried to talk about her many times, but Miranda had always cut them off.

Could it be her?


	7. The Letter: Chapter 7

Title: The Letter: Chapter Seven

Word Count: 1592

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**So many were upset with the ending of The Letter they pleaded with me to give our ladies a chance at Happy Ever After. My muse has finally agreed to give them a chance, but she is not promising anything. I hope you enjoy. I do not know when this will get updated, but I promise to put out any new chapters as soon as they are born. :))**_

_**Thanks for everyone who is encouraging me to continue. Sorry I forgot to remove the COMPLETED from the story when I finally decided to continue it. It is gone for now. I have made some other adjustments too. We are almost there. Will hopefully get the last chapter up soon. :)**_

**_Lectrice assidue I cannot thank you enough for the translations. I love it! :) I am replacing and updating all the chapters! kisses :))_**

* * *

As Miranda excited the elevator Alexandrie was standing in wait.

The last think she wanted to do was tell her boss the devastating news. She would be lucky to have her job at the end of the day.

"Miranda."

The fashion Editor stopped, waited, and waited.

"Alexandrie, vraiment, si vous avez quelque-chose à dire, dites-le (really Alexandrie if you have something to say, say it)"

Miranda was glaring at the young girl, "Alexandrie!"

The girl jumped, and with down cast eyes whispered, "La scène de Valentino a disparu de Fashion Week"  
(the venue for Valentino dropped from Fashion Week)"

Miranda's eyes were shooting fire. Fashion week was only seven days away and Valentino, her favorite designer and longtime friend had no venue?

"Allez me chercher Emily...(Get me Emily) NOW."

Miranda's assistant was in tears when she rang Emily.

The only thing Emily could make out was "NOW".

Once the phone went dead Emily began to shake. She knew Miranda had her appointment with Noémi this morning and apparently it did not go well.

Emily rushed to Miranda's office and found a totally distraute assistant in the outer office. Emily stopped and tried to calm Alexandrie down with very little success.

Alexandrie just kept pointing into Miranda's office saying, "NOW…NOW."

Emily finally giving up, rolled her eyes, and marched into the Dragon's Lair.

"Bullocks Miranda, I thought you stopped terrorizing assistants a long time ago. Why are you chastising Alexandrie for something I did?"

Emily stood in front of Miranda's desk with her hands on her hips and offering a very good impression of Miranda's death glare.

Miranda would have been laughing if this wasn't such a dire situation.

"Emily. Sit."

Emily continued to stand.

"Oh for goodness sake Emily, I am not going to fire Alexandrie, and I do not know why she is crying. I did not say anything to her except to get you."

Emily's face softened as she continued to examine Miranda's eyes. Emily walked around to the front of one of the chairs and sat. She looked out toward Alexandrie, she was still crying, and then back at Miranda again.

Miranda rolled her eyes, "Alexandrie, allez prendre une pause et calmez-vous" (Alexandrie go take a break and calm yourself)."

The young girl looked into the office, eyes wide and scared.

Emily rolled her eyes at the girl and explained, "Alexandrie, tout va bien. Vous n'allez pas être virée" (Alexandrie everything is fine. You are not going to be fired.)"

The assistant sniffed and nodded.

Miranda being tired of all the emotion flicked her hands in the air and said, "That's all."

The girl could not get out of the office fast enough.

Emily started laughing, "I have not seen an assistant act like that since our days back at American Runway."

Miranda just ran her eyes over Emily.

"Bloody Hell Miranda, you had to have done something to make her react like that."

Miranda arched an eyebrow, "maybe it was what she told me."

Emily sat forward all ears as Miranda relayed the horrible news to her partner.

Emily leaned back in her chair in shock. "Why? What are we to do now?"

"It seems Valentino is up in arms with the curators of the Carrousel du Louvre over changes he wants for his show. They are allowing everyone else to do their shows except for Valentino." Miranda rolled her eyes and flipped her hands. "The French. Anyway while you were coddling Alexandrie. Seriously Emily, have I not taught you anything? Having children has made you too soft."

Emily's eyes shot up to Miranda's face shooting fire, only to see the softness in Miranda's, and a sweet smile on her face.

"As I was saying. I contacted the Louvre. The curator there owes me a favorite. They have consented to allow Valentino to show in the museum. Valentino is ecstatic."

Emily fell back into the chair, mouth hanging open, and eyes blank unbelieving, "Woman how do you do it?"

Miranda laughed, "I am Miranda Priestly after all."

* * *

As was promised Miranda's dress was ready for a fitting at the end of the week, and Miranda once again found herself standing in front of the small shop, but this time she had the box with the amazing shoes tucked under one of her arms.

Once again before she could knock or open the door it was opened for her.

The tall grey haired woman was once again standing in front of her with a bright smile on her face.

"Miranda! I am so glad you are here. I cannot wait to see you in your dress. Come, come follow me."

Miranda had not had much time to think about the dress during the week she had so much to do for Fashion week it kept her mind well occupied.

That also meant she did not have time for Andréa to run around in her head.

Now that she was here though, so much was spinning through her head she could not think straight.

"I am glad you remembered to bring your shoes, they are a major piece. Your dress would not look the same without them" Noémi turned, and winked at Miranda.

Miranda stopped in her tracks. The woman did it again.

"OK Miranda you need to close your eyes. I want you to see the full effect of the dress hanging not just little bits at a time."

Miranda just stood and stared at the woman, "You want me to what?"

Noémi glided around to Miranda's back, placed her hands softly over Miranda's eyes, and whispered in her ear, "I want you to get the whole effect at once. Adrien," She called, "bring out the dress for Miranda."

Miranda shivered at the effect Noémi's breathe blowing over her neck had on her, and she was appalled at the woman's antics.

Miranda grabbed for the designer's hands, pulled them away from her face, but before she could say anything her eyes caught the sight of the dress and she gasped.

Noémi grinned and dropped her hands from Miranda's face.

Miranda was stunned. She walked over to the dress, held up her hand, and tenderly glided it over the material. It felt exquisite, and looked magnificent. It was one of the most glorious pieces she had ever seen.

Noémi was close to Miranda and once again in a low seductive voice whispered past her ear, "ready to try it on Miranda?"

Miranda turned and nodded.

Noémi and her assistant helped Miranda into the dress and then her shoes. They assisted her up on the platform in front of the mirrors.

When Miranda looked up she inhaled deeply.

Noémi was beaming, "Your friend described you so well this dress would not have had anywhere near the same effect on another person. Your friend knows you inside and out Miranda."

Miranda looked at herself in the mirror there was only one person who knew her that well.

* * *

On the way back to Runway Miranda once again thought of Andréa and what they did to each other.

Hope, could she once again live for it?

Miranda walked into her office and standing, leaning against her desk was a painting.

She slowly walked toward it.

Framed in a washed white wood was a scene of a beach with pure white sand, waves of the bluest blue were crashing up against the rocky shore.

It was magnificent.

Miranda ran her slim fingers across the surface of it.

She read the name painted diagonally across the bottom left hand corner. She did not recognize it but she was surely going find out more about this artist.

She looked around Emily was not due in the office until later in the morning. She was home caring for Serena who was just days away from delivering their second child and was on ordered bedrest.

Miranda reached for her phone, and as she looked up her eyes caught the edge of the tiny white envelope.

She picked it up and flipped it over. Pulling out the card inside she knew it was the same expensive paper that had accompanied the flowers and shoes.

"When I spotted this I immediately thought of you."

~ White sand sparkles like the sun shining on your beautiful hair. Waves the same bright crystal blue color of your eyes. Can you hear the wave's crash on the surf Miranda? One day Miranda I wish to make love to you on that shore. You need to take the time once again to enjoy life, Miranda. ~

Miranda turned red as she released the card, and it floated through the air to the floor.

Her body burned in places she forgot she had. Her mind reeled, and once again turned to Andréa, and she long to touch, kiss the dark brown haired woman. Miranda's arms ached to hold Andréa.

The first time she took Andréa to the Hamptons. She remembered Andréa taking her hand, leading her out the back door to the private beach. The breeze, the spray from the ocean, the touch of Andréa's fingers, Miranda's body felt as it would disintegrate.

"Miranda?"

Miranda jumped, "Alexandrie, savez-vous qui a laissé cette peinture?" (Alexandrie, do you know who left this painting?)"

The girl shook her head, "Non Miranda. C'était là quand je suis arrivée ce matin."(No Miranda. It was here when I arrived this morning.)

Miranda nodded and shooed the young assistant out of the office.

Miranda sat and thought, then smiled.

"I am being courted."


	8. The Letter: Chapter 8

Title: The Letter: Chapter Eight

Word Count: 2113

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to continue this story. I am pretty happy with how it turned out. lol to the guest who thinks it is to long "ugh" stop reading it! **_

**_I cannot thank Lectrice assidue enough for sending me the correct French translations. I love it! :) I have replaced and updated all the chapters! kisses :)) So if you know French you can go back and it should make more sense now. Enjoy._**

* * *

Miranda looked in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect, the dress and shoes were amazing. She took a deep breath.

Hoping.

"Miranda hurry up and get out here so I can see you."

Miranda rolled her eyes. How was she ever going to deal with this woman?

"Miranda…wow!" Noémi gasped, her hands over her mouth.

She walked around Miranda noting every detail, it was perfect, and this was her big night.

"How am I ever going to repay you for making my dress so…so beautiful? Stunning? Gorgeous?"

Miranda rolled her eyes once again but smiled. She was about to reply when the bouquet of red tulips caught her eye.

She slowly walked over to them and cupped one of the blooms in her hand.

Noémi smiled, "They came while you were getting ready. I'll leave now."

Miranda did not hear her.

Visions were running through her head.

Visions of Andréa with dozens of tulips in their bedroom the night she proposed.

No one had ever done anything like that for her before, but Andréa had made her feel special. Made her feel loved as she had never been loved before.

Miranda smiled sweetly at the memory.

Tulips were Miranda's favorite flower. No one knew that, not even her husbands, even though she had carried tulips as her wedding bouquets.

Everyone knew she hated Freesias, but no one had taken the time to find out what she really liked.

She spotted the card tucked under the vase holding the flowers and her smile grew brighter.

Miranda caressed the card with a finger, her heart beating so hard, emotions began to flood her.

Hoping.

She shook her head, not now, she could not cry now.

She pulled the card from under the vase, took a deep breath, and slowly opened it.

~*~ Miranda,

Tulips perfect love.

Red tulips true love.

I will be waiting

I am wearing Valentino Red

Andréa ~*~

Miranda's hand was shaking. She lifted her face to the ceiling trying to stop the flow of tears.

Her Andréa.

She was here. She had come to get her back.

Miranda's chest was heaving, her heart felt as if it would rip out of her chest.

She placed her hand over her heart to help calm herself.

Was it wise to be hoping? Miranda chewed on the inside of her cheek. She was scared, nervous.

Then she heard the music and shook her head. She knew they were trying to be progressive but their choice of music was horrendous. What was wrong with the classics? How was she supposed to mingle with this music playing?

Then she smiled…she hated small talk. Then she laughed.

She took one last look in the mirror, pulled one of the tulips out of the vase, and walked out the door.

* * *

On the floor at the base of the stairs were hundreds of people standing around. There were large groups, small groups, and sets of two. They were drinking, eating, and chatting amongst themselves. They were all in wait for the Editor in Chief to make her entrance.

Miranda looked around, and there she was, off to the side of the stairs in the middle of a large group of people.

The bright red Grecian style dress stood out amongst the others dressed in black. A delicate piece of material draped down over her left shoulder and a wreath of flowers laid over the bare shoulder and across her back. It fit her perfectly, wrapping around her body coming to a medium train. Andréa's long brown locks casscaded down her back.

Miranda was so taken with the sight she gasped. The hand with the flower in it found its way to her lips. The soft petals touched her cheek and at that moment she relaxed.

Yes, it was good to hope.

On the floor the party goers knew the minute Miranda walked out of the room she had gotten ready in. The atmosphere in the room changed.

Andy shivered as she felt the drop in temperature.

She stopped talking mid-sentence, she turned, and her eyes followed the stairs to the top.

When she saw Miranda standing there she inhaled deeply and her legs almost gave out.

Nigel right by her side held her up with her elbows.

For Andy the room grew silent, it was just her and Miranda. She had felt like this just one time before, at their wedding. Andy felt like she was floating on a cloud.

"Six."

"Oh my God, Nigel."

"Yes, she is beautiful Six. The dress you had made for her, she has never looked so good."

Andy twisted herself out of Nigel's arms and glided to the base of the stairs.

Her eyes drifted to the top of the stairs and stared at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Dressed in a strapless gown that cinched at her waist. The skirt flowed out from under her breast in a gold iridescent, opaque material, and as she moved her leg to begin her descent the glass slipper appeared.

There was an aura around Miranda. A soft, luminous light enveloped her.

She smiled down at Andréa, and Andréa returned it.

For both women the entire world disappeared. It was just the two of them. It was time for them to reconnect. They had been apart for way too long. They were not going to let this fail.

More than one person gasped and began whispering as Miranda made her way down the steps. They whispered of who had made the dress and shoes Miranda wore, and more importantly what the presence of Andrea at the ball meant.

As Miranda began her descent a song began to play.

One prearranged by Andy: Matt Nathanson- Come on get higher

**_I miss the sound of your voice_**

**_And I miss the rush of your skin_**

**_And I miss the still of the silence_**

**_As you breathe out and I breathe in_**

Andy inhaled deeply, and her smile spread out over her face as Miranda made her way down to her. She did not miss the sight of the tulip in Miranda's hand, or the beautiful smile spreading over her face.

Andy could not wait to touch the soft pale skin of Miranda, and feel Miranda's breath against her neck.

Miranda was a vision.

Miranda grinned as she began her way down the staircase. She knew Andréa must have arranged for the song to be playing. Miranda missed everything Andréa, and could not wait to experience it all again. Goosebumps were springing up on her skin just thinking about it.

**_If I could walk on water_**

**_If I could tell you what's next_**

**_I'd make you believe_**

**_I'd make you forget_**

Tears began to fall from Andy's eyes as the words of the song came to her. If they could just forget the last three years, and Miranda could believe that Andy was going to do everything in her power to keep them together.

Andy mouthed, "I love you now, tomorrow, and forever."

For Miranda she smiled. If anyone could walk on water Andréa could, and Miranda did believe they could make it. She mouthed back to Andréa, "And I you."

**_[Chorus]_**

**_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips_**

**_Faith and desire and the swing of your hips_**

**_Just pull me down hard_**

**_And drown me in love_**

**_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips_**

**_Faith and desire and the swing of your hips_**

**_Just pull me down hard_**

**_And drown me in love_**

Both Miranda and Andy smiled and giggled as Miranda put that little extra swing in as she moved from one step to the next.

**_I miss the sound of your voice_**

**_Loudest thing in my head_**

**_And I ache to remember_**

**_All the violent, sweet_**

**_Perfect words that you said_**

Miranda closed her eyes for a split section as she remembered the letter she had penned to Andréa just a few years ago. As she opened her eyes once again she saw Andréa shake her head and mouth, "Don't."

**_If I could walk on water_**

**_If I could tell you what's next_**

**_I'd make you believe_**

**_I'd make you forget_**

**_[Chorus]_**

**_I miss the pull of your heart_**

**_I taste the sparks on your tongue_**

**_I see angels and devils_**

**_And God, _****_when you come_****_…on_**

**_Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_**

Miranda blushed and Andy grinned even brighter as they interpreted the hidden meaning in the words.

**_Sing sha la la la_**

**_Sing sha la la la la_**

**_Ooh Ooh Ooh_**

**_[Chorus]_**

**_It's all wrong, it's all wrong_**

**_It's all wrong, it's so right_**

**_So come on, get higher_**

**_So come on and get higher_**

**_'Cause everything works, love_**

**_Everything works in your arms._**

Songwriters

WEINBERG, MARK / NATHANSON, MATT

Miranda had made it to the bottom of the steps as the song faded out.

Andréa stepped forward biting on her lower lip. Hope in her eyes.

Miranda smiled sweetly and took Andréa into her arms and whispered into her ear, "It is you."

Andy giggled.

Miranda took a step back, she tilted her head, and there were questions in her eyes as she looked at Andréa.

She had four inch heels on and she was looking Andréa straight in the eye. How was that possible?

Andy grinned brightly and giggled as she grabbed a hold of the skirt of her gown. She pulled it up sticking her leg out.

Miranda almost burst out laughing as she gazed upon a pair of red high top sneakers.

Andy held out her hand for Miranda to take, but Miranda continued to question Andréa with her eyes.

"Andréa?"

Just then music began to play, (WALK THE MOON - Shut Up and Dance). Andy grinned at her wife and smirked, "Shut up and dance with me."

Andy grabbed Miranda's hand, walked her out to the dance floor, and began to twirl her around the room.

Miranda was ecstatic and she began to laugh as she held on for dear life.

The crowd was in a state of disbelief as they watched the two women dance.

Off to the side stood two tall red headed girls, with each one of their heads resting on one of Nigel's shoulders.

"Thank god it worked," he exclaimed.

Both girls laughed.

As the song finished another began and Andy began to slow the pace. She looked tenderly into Miranda's eyes pulling her close. Andy buried her face into Miranda's neck and softly kissed Miranda in her favorite place.

Miranda shivered, "I missed you Andréa."

Andréa pulled Miranda in closer, "Please, please Miranda come back to me."

* * *

That night Andréa lead Miranda into her hotel room. Their fingers entwined.

As Andréa opened the door Miranda gasped seeing the room lit with candles.

Miranda easily followed Andréa into the room and Andréa closed the door behind them.

Andy turned keeping Miranda's hand in hers and back Miranda up to the door.

"I love you Miranda with all that I am. I was so stupid."

Miranda raised a finger to Andréa's lips, "Shhh, no don't. Just kiss me."

Andy smiled and leaned in closer pressing her lips to Miranda's. They moved in tandem. Tongues swirling together. Chests pressed tight together, they were heaving. Their hearts were beating together. Soon Andy had to break away and as she did she pulled Miranda's bottom lip between her teeth making Miranda moan.

For a few minutes they just stood there catching their breath gazing into each other's eyes.

Without saying a word Andy took Miranda's hand and led her over to the bed sitting her down.

Andy picked up the small box on the bedside table then sat next to Miranda.

Eyes down cast she began to speak, "I could never understand how your ex's could ignore you. It would piss me off so much." Andy wiped away tears that had started to fall. "Then there I was doing it myself."

"Andra it wasn't the same. You were working hard."

Andy shook her head and looked into Miranda's eyes. Those beautiful eyes that she would never tire of looking at.

"No, Miranda, please let me finish. I did not realize. What I was doing, and I know I would not listen to you. I need you Miranda. With me. Without you I'm dead."

Andy lifted the lid off the box inside was a platinum band of ruby's.

"I love you Miranda, more than life itself. Marry me?"

Miranda smiled and held out her left hand.

"Andréa we are married."

"Maybe on paper…"

"No Andréa, in our hearts we are married. Never stopped being married. Andréa I love you with everything I have. Of course I will marry you."

_**So hope is not a bad thing and our ladies are finally back together were they belong. I kind of have an idea for an epilogue to the story. It is very short. So I am going to leave it up to you all. Do you want me to post an epilogue? Let me know. Otherwise this is THE END and everyone lived HAPPILY EVERAFTER. ;)**_


	9. The Letter: Epilogue

Title: The Letter: Epilogue

Word Count: 708

Rating: K+/PG 13 ?

Disclaimer: Do not own any of it. Just want to play with the characters and have fun with them.

_**I wanted to thank everyone who comment and voted for the epilogue. Like I said it is just short and sweet. So this is the End. Enjoy a little in sight to our girls wonderful future! :) ;)**_

* * *

~*~ One Year Later~*~

Miranda let herself in the house, it was quiet, and she was exhausted.

It was the day after Parish Fashion Week, and getting everything in line for the featured issue was grueling.

She sat her bag on the hall table, and wandered into the sitting room.

She found her way over to the wet bar, and poured herself some of her favorite Scotch.

Pulling off her stilettos she settled onto the couch, and propped her feet up on the ottoman.

Taking a sip of the scotch she laid her head back, closed her eyes, and let the liquid run down her throat.

"Dam, watching you drink is still the sexiest thing around."

Miranda opened her eyes, and viewed her beautiful wife standing in the doorway.

Hair tied up in a ponytail, bare feet, tight jeans, and a smile that would not quit.

Miranda smiled, and patted the seat next to her.

Andy snickered and walked over to the woman who once again had her eyes closed.

Sitting beside Miranda Andy placed her feet over Miranda's lap.

Miranda absent mindedly placed a hand on Andréa's thigh and caressed it, sliding up and down the toned leg.

Andy sat and watched as Miranda's hand made love to her leg and shivered.

"Was it a bad day?"

Miranda nodded.

Andy took the back of her hand and slid it down Miranda's cheek and across her chin. A finger lingered on a soft, wet lip.

Miranda's lips parted and she slid her tongue out touching the tip of Andréa's finger.

Andy took a deep breath in, and Miranda moaned.

Andy giggled.

Miranda opened one eye, and Andy could see fire in it.

"I thought you were tired?"

"Never too tired for you Sweetheart," Miranda purred.

"The girls called today." Andy paused for a short time. "Cassidy is bringing a boy with her for Thanksgiving."

Miranda groaned, "First Caroline and now Cassidy. Andréa they are growing up way to fast. They just started college. Can they not wait for romance?" Miranda took another sip of her Scotch, and closed her eyes again.

Andy smiled and snuggled in closer to her love.

"They just do not want to miss out on finding what you and I have." Andy shrugged. "At least that is what Caroline told me."

Miranda felt Andréa's breathe flutter across her ear and neck, and whimpered.

She opened both eyes only having to turn her head a short distance before she caught Andréa's lips with hers.

The lips were soft and light on each other, moving in tandem. Miranda's tongue snaked out and begged for entrance to Andréa's mouth. Their tongues danced and coiled around each other until Miranda could not breathe.

She broke apart, her chest heaving, and her heart beating out of control.

Andy smiled.

"What were you doing when I came home? It was so quit I thought you were gone."

Andy giggled, "You are changing the subject."

Miranda looked at Andréa, and frowned, "talking about my child's love life is a topic I would rather not discuss," then closed her eyes again.

Andy gave Miranda a short peck on the cheek.

"I was finishing up my article for The New Yorker. I just have to review it one more time, and as long as I get it emailed by two am Dave will have plenty of time to edit it."

Miranda smiled, she loved hearing about Andréa's articles, and listening to the woman talk about the assignment she chose.

Andy placed a hand over the hand Miranda was caressing her thigh with and ran a finger up and down the back of it.

The touch made Miranda shiver, "Oh Andréa," she purred.

Andy picked up Miranda's hand, brought it to her lips, and kissed it.

Silently she raised her t-shirt exposing her abdomen than placed Miranda's hand on it.

Miranda stroked Andréa for a bit before opening her eyes.

Andy was just watching Miranda, her grin taking over her entire face.

"Feel anything different?"

Miranda looked at Andréa confused.

"Like maybe a bump or a movement?"

Miranda sat up a little straighter.

"Andréa?"

Tears began to fall from Andy's eyes.

"We are going to have a baby."


End file.
